Tomes of Dark and Light
by Pyrephox
Summary: Keeper Evelyn deals with internal discord, meddling Heroes, and a disturbing new Head Librarian while on vacation in Pestilence.
1. Homecoming

Many Thanks To Kaged_Tiger, whose lovely fic inspired me to actually write the idea that had been   
buzzing around my head, and who changed the entire format of the story by showing me the joys of   
changing viewpoints. Oh, and ::taps foot:: your devoted readers are waiting for the next chapter of   
Dungeon Secrets.  
  
Author's Note: This is based on DK1. I haven't played 2, yet. Also, it doesn't entirely follow the   
rules…wonderful though Bullfrog's engine is, it never addressed intra-Dungeon politics, or bathrooms.   
Any deviation from the rules is my fault, and mine alone.  
  
Tomes of Dark and Light  
  
Evelyn  
  
In the beginning, there was darkness. Then some self-righteous twit had to come along and ruin   
it. The next thing you know, the world is filled with light and mewling weaklings who mouth pretty   
phrases under their gentle sun. Pathetic children who haven't a care or a brain cell between them.   
Well, I'll just see about that. Come down into my cool, dark halls little Sunborn. Come down here and   
learn the knowledge of the darkness, the strength that is born in tears.  
  
I am Lady Evelyn, the Dungeon Keeper. I am the death of the Light.  
  
***  
  
Although by this time I had several strongholds, Pestilence remained my favorite. In this   
catacomb, I was able to crush my rival's forces before he could ruin the earth with the messy, illogical  
designs so many of my fellow Keepers seem to favor. This allowed me to expand in a pleasing way; large,  
square rooms and short hallways with a minimum of decoration. Also, I had a spot of luck with the Hero  
Gate, and built my main torture chamber and training room around it. Much to my Mistresses'   
displeasure, we didn't get many visitors that way anymore.  
  
With no distractions, I could build Pestilence with an eye to pleasure, rather than defense.   
Now, the Library is the largest among all the Dark Brethren. I even had a first edition Forbidden   
Bloodrites by Takaris. The streets of Cheery Hollow ran red on that shopping expedition, believe me. My   
Warlocks go into raptures every time I visit, because they know I'll bring only the rarest texts that   
I've come across in my conquests. To make room, I gutted most of the training rooms. For defense, I   
keep only Atrius and Devlon, the dragon twins, and a small cadre of highly-trained Mistresses as a   
welcoming party for wanna-be Heroes.  
  
I was taking a small winter holiday after the subjugation of the once-thriving province of   
Snowbell and decided to return to Pestilence to research my newest monograph on subcutaneous acid-based   
interrogation techniques. Actually, I would have done better research in Bloodythorn (nee Snowbell)   
where there was a rich supply of test subjects. However, Bloodythorn was bloody cold, and an evil   
overlord should never be required to clean a layer of frost out of her cocoa cup of a morning.  
  
"Exalted One," the Dragon twins greeted me (in unison, as always. No matter how many times I'd   
punished them, they'd never broken the habit.) as I stepped out of the Portal. I nodded to them, and   
they fell in behind me as I walked to the Dungeon Heart. I had possessed a Mistress for the journey,   
and I couldn't help but smile at the nightmarish picture my minions and I presented. The Imps, darling   
souls, screamed in terror and worship as they caught sight of me. With a laugh, I handed my new   
acquisitions to Devlon as we passed into the scintillating glow of the Heart Chamber. "Take these to   
Xyanthos, It'll take me a little while to get settled in again."  
  
Atrius coughed as delicately as a several ton, fire breathing creature can. "Xyanthos is no   
longer in possession of the title of Head Librarian. In fact, I regret to say that he no longer   
possesses a head of any sort."  
  
"Oh, really? Who happened to him?" Never let it be said that I didn't know what kind of people   
I employed.  
  
"Cambri, my Lady." An image of a shockingly pale (even for a group that spens most of its life   
underground) young Warlock with odd, pink eyes floated up from my memory. I frowned. He was not quite   
new, but I couldn't remember ever paying much attention to him. Obviously I'd been remiss in my duties.  
  
"Does Cambri know how to file my books?"  
  
"There have been no complaints about his filing." I gave Atrius a sharp look out of the   
Mistress's black eyes.  
  
"But perhaps about other things?" I didn't wait for an answer. "Give him these to put away,   
and then have him report after his dinner." I handed the books' protective case to Devlon as both of   
the Dragons nodded gravely. I closed my eyes, and assessed the strength of my host. She was   
exhausted…had I forgotten to sleep again? Damn. I turned to Atrius. "When I transfer, take Jezra here   
to a Lair."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Make sure that she gets some food, and give her one of the Imps to play with as a reward."   
Muffled squeaking echoed through the cavern as the Imps scattered. I smiled. "I'm sure you can find one  
that has been…lacking in initiative."  
  
"Oh, yes, my Lady." Atrius's hungry rumble told me he'd already picked his candidate. Imps were  
always a problem for my under-commanders. They were without wants, not very bright, and loyal only to   
me. And since they were mine in a way that no other minion could ever be, I tended to take exception to   
their physical abuse. Extreme exception. But, even Imps could be lazy, and the sacrifice of one would   
remind the others to whom they belonged. A lesson that, perhaps, Pestilence needed to relearn.  
  
Without conscious thought, I yawned. The host's fatigue was sinking into my mind like poison.   
Time to leave. I closed my eyes, touched the Heart, and pushed. The Mistress dropped to the floor like   
a wet piece of rope as I shed myself of her flesh and dove into the light of the Heart. The world   
became dark, became Dark, as the power stored within connected with my soul. Slowly, I became aware of   
the rock, of the bone and blood of my dungeon, with the heartbeats of my creatures. It was so good to   
be home. 


	2. Interview

Cambri  
  
Lady Evelyn had returned. I was deeply occupied with my analysis of Dark Lord Corvale's three-volume study of Imp anatomy when the air of the library shivered, as if with pleasure. The temperature dropped several degrees, and before the Library compensated, my breath billowed fog. At my feet, Krem closed his eyes and shuddered. "The Lady has returned to us," the Imp crooned in his childlike voice.  
  
"So it seems." I couldn't quite share the Imp's simple pleasure. Unlike some Keepers, Lady Evelyn did not encourage promotion-by-assassination; she especially disliked to see conflict among her small armies of researchers. Strife in the libraries tended to damage the books, and we all knew that if Evelyn ever had to choose between her minions and her books, the ground would be littered with the broken corpses of Warlocks. No tomes were affected in the fight with Xyanthos, but I had a sinking feeling that it was the principle of the thing that mattered. No, it wasn't pleasure that made my heart begin to throb in my chest as the Library felt the presence of its Keeper once again.  
  
"Master Cambri?" I jumped, and Krem cringed under a nearby desk. "Master, your pen is leaking."  
  
I looked down to find a blot of dark red ink spreading across the page. "Damn it all," I muttered as I threw down the pen. It didn't noticeably help matters. The ink was magestain, immune to magical alteration. It was absolutely necessary in high-magic zones and in the presence of unscrupulous mages (which was what Warlocks were, by definition), but could be a real pain in the ass when it came to correcting mistakes. I crumpled the half-finished page with a sigh, and prepared to start over.  
  
"Librarian."  
  
"*Head* Librarian," I said lightly as I turned around to face the huge, toothsome visage of one of the Dragon twins. One scaled claw carried an iron box-it looked like a recycled poison gas trap. I raised an eyebrow. "What is it…Devlon?" I figured I had an even chance of getting the name right, and rewarded as the Dragon's head bobbed. He placed the box on the desk beside me.  
  
"Books, Librarian. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept. The Lady wants them catalogued, and you have an appointment in the Heart Chamber after dinner."  
  
"Hers or mine?"  
  
Devlon's mouth split into a leer. "The Lady rarely eats, except for effect. Although," he mused, "there was that time she trapped Keeper Donestos into his last Orc and pulled out his…"  
  
"I get it, Devlon."  
  
"Maybe you do, Librarian. And maybe you don't. Your games won't go far with the Lady, I promise you that." The predator's head swung slowly from side to side. "Speaking of which, where is the Imp?"  
  
"I don't really know," I said, and smiled politely. At the moment, it was true. I didn't know that Krem was hiding in the empty shelf we'd cleared for him. Not absolutely, anyway.  
  
Devlon snarled, and his ember-like eyes narrowed as they studied my hopefully pleasant expression. "Oh, yes, Librarian, your games are just about over. Count on it," he growled at me once more, then withdrew with surprising speed. The Library made the twins uncomfortable. It wasn't that they were stupid, unfortunately, but they certainly didn't share most of their brethren's love for literary pursuits. Throwbacks, in other words. They were beneath my notice, or they would be, if it weren't for the fact that they could turn me into ash whenever I left the shielding presence of the books.  
  
I ran my fingers through my hair, and turned back to my papers with grim determination. "Krem," I said as I dipped the quill into the magestain, "You'd better go and take care of your duties."  
  
"Now that the Lady is here…now that the Lady is here, you will ask that I be your secretary, yes, Master?" The quill froze an inch over the paper.  
  
"Yes, Krem. I will ask." If she doesn't simply blast me into a red smear as soon as she sees me, I added mentally. "Now, hurry before you are missed."  
  
"Yes, Master." I never heard him leave.  
  
***  
  
I stepped into the Heart Chamber less than three minutes after I'd forced down the last bite of my evening meal. I was armored in my best dress robes, and the amulet that was the symbol of the Head Librarian rested heavily on the scarlet silks. I bowed deeply to the Heart, then lowered myself to one knee. "My Lady Evelyn, I am your servant."  
  
"Yes. You are."  
  
I shuddered as her voice slid inside me. It was the first time that my Keeper had spoken directly to me, and it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Her voice was like an ice cube against sunburned flesh, it hurt, but somehow I couldn't wait to feel it again. Gods of Night, I thought, is this how the Imps feel all the time?  
  
"So. You took it upon yourself to retire my Xyanthros?"  
  
I swallowed. "Yes, my Lady."  
  
"I take it you had a reason for this startling show of initiative? A very good reason?" She sounded more amused than angry, as if she were asking one of the chickens why it had just crapped on her foot. Perhaps that's what I was, to her, perhaps that's what we all were. As always, the thought made me angry, and scared, which made me even angrier. I had to struggle to keep my voice calm.  
  
"I did have a very good reason, my Lady."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
"Do you care?" Time stopped, and my brain boggled at what my ears had just heard me say. Gods, I thought, I really am going to die. The temperature in the Chamber began to drop, degree by slow degree as the silence stretched out. The insides of my nostrils began to burn with the cold.   
  
Her voice, when it came, cut into my flesh with every word. Literally. Blood trickled from my cheeks and wrists, and began to freeze as a disembodied hand wrenched my head back and up, until I was staring helplessly into the huge gem that was the apex of the Heart. "Do…I…care? It wonders if I care? What does it think I should care about, I wonder?"  
  
I swallowed again, my throat felt raw and dry from the cold. I forced words up from my lungs, unable to stop or rethink them. "Me. Us. All of us. Do you care about your servants?"  
  
"What has this to do with Xyanthros, Warlock?"  
  
"He was doing experiments, my Lady. Worse than torture…he said that you had authorized them. He said," and here, my courage failed me, "he said a lot of things. I killed him, before he could kill one of us."  
  
"Experiments?" Evelyn's voice purred. "What kind of experiments?"  
  
Gods, I thought desperately, let her believe me. Please let her believe me. "Xyanthros was testing a variant of the Lightning spell. It extends the sensation without causing death. At first, a few of us volunteered, but the spell...had side effects." I thought about Tyril's spasms beneath me, as he shrieked mindlessly. I remembered the high pitched hum of the spell, the black lightning crawling across his convulsing flesh. I'd seen a lot of terrifying things, I'd done quite a few of them, but I couldn't vanish Tyril's mad, blood-shot eyes from my memory. These days, I always had another of the Warlocks watching him, making sure that he was kept on an even keel. Some days, Tyril even remembered how to read. "One of the more unpleasant side effects is that, in Warlocks and Mistresses, the spell caused a sudden and-thus far-irrevocable loss of memory and higher brain function. Including any useful information about enemy bases," I added meaningfully.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"When we realized what was happening, the other Warlocks and I refused to be subjects at all. Some of the Mistresses volunteered, but it only took one session before they realized that being drooling idiots for the rest of their lives wasn't worth even that much pain. So," I took a deep breath, feeling the rage well up again like a lava flow, "Xyanthros turned his attention to those who couldn't say no."  
  
"My Imps?" She didn't sound terribly upset. My heart dropped.  
  
"Yes, my Lady." I thought about Krem, about the little creatures howls of pain, his pitiful begging, and the way that, after every session, he would crawl his way to Xyanthros' hem and kiss the stained fabric. Because he was an Imp, and that was what Imps did.  
  
"Why do you care what happens to Imps?"  
  
There was a right answer to this, and I could feel it on the edge of his tongue. Because they are yours, Lady, and I did not believe that you would authorize such an abuse of your Imps. It was the right answer, but it was not the truth. And I had a feeling that Lady Evelyn would not find a lie, even the right lie, amusing right now. "I cared because it was pointless. I understand pain, it's application, what it can do and what it must be used for. But I have never embraced pain without purpose. It's," I struggled to find the words, "It's a waste. And I despise waste. The spell could never be used in battle, and Imps only find motivation in your discipline, not in any lesser master. There was simply no point, and a man who doesn't care about waste is a bigger danger to his allies than to his enemies.  
  
"So I killed him." I closed my eyes; ice from my eyelashes scraped on my cheeks. "I yield myself to your judgement." And I still didn't know if she had ordered the experiments done in the first place.  
  
"So you killed him," Lady Evelyn echoed, and the hand disappeared. I sank to my knees. The temperature began to rise, first so slowly that I only knew it by the slickness of melted ice in my hair, then quickly. "Very well, Head Librarian Cambri. I spare your life. But you have made your one mistake, the only mistake I will ever allow. I sincerely hope it was worth it."  
  
I thought about Tyril, about Krem, and about the scars on my own body, old and new. It was worth it. 


	3. Consequences

Cambri  
  
"Very well," Lady Evelyn mused, "If there's nothing else..." the tone of her voice said quite clearly that there was to be nothing else. Pushing a Keeper was never a good idea, and under the circumstances, it was more likely to be suicide. But I'd promised. 'Warlock' meant 'oathbreaker', but there was no way that I could go back to the library and tell Krem that I hadn't even tried. Such was the price of reluctant friendship.  
  
"My Lady, there is something. A minor matter with one of the former...test subjects."  
  
"What is it, Librarian?" Her voice was edged with impatience.  
  
"It's the Imp, Krem. He was the only survivor among the Imps that were used, and the only truly sane survivor in all. In fact, the spell seems to have catalyzed a metaphysical reaction, giving him reasoning capabilities beyond most of his species." I wasn't actually sure about that last bit; Krem had always been a little strange. But it was no denying that since the torture, he'd been showing most un-Implike abilities. It was a fascinating situation. That's what had first drawn me into interaction with him, and what I was counting on to hold the Lady's attention and secure Krem's reassignment.  
  
The Chamber was silent, but I could almost hear the Keeper thinking, as eddies of chill air danced and swirled in response to her emotional state. "Are you saying," she said slowly, "that Xyanthros built a better Imp?"  
  
I winced. That interpretation hadn't occurred to me. "Not exactly," I said. "It more seems that he built a *different* kind of Imp. One that is not quite as useful for its traditional duties, but that could find a new niche, if allowed."  
  
"What duties has Krem failed to perform?" Damn, and damn again. I couldn't decide if Lady Evelyn was intentionally twisting my words to make my job as difficult as possible, or if she simply was that unimaginative. Gods of Darkness, I hoped it was the former. If she couldn't see the possibilities here, or if she concentrated on the wrong ones, then Krem and I would be better off just throwing ourselves on the mercy of the Mistresses now.  
  
"None, as such," I hastened to reassure her, "but he is no longer wholly accepted by the other Imps," or any of the other Dungeon dwellers, "and he shows a great interest in the Library." I took a deep breath. "He wishes to learn to read, my Lady."  
  
"He...wishes..." Evelyn breathed all around him. "An Imp wishes? To read, no less? My, this *is* delicious, isn't it?" A soft tapping sound echoed through the Chamber, very much as if someone were clicking a set of manicured nails impatiently against a glass. The sound stopped, and her voice smiled coldly as it said, "It appears that I'll have an opportunity to sample this wonder for myself."  
  
"What?" I said, brilliantly, just as Krem leapt into the room, with Devon in hot pursuit. Seeing me, the little Imp began howling piteously and launched himself at the bottom of my robes. He clung to the hem, babbling in terror. I reacted instinctively, and scooped Krem behind my legs, shielding him from the Dragon.  
  
"Give me that Imp, librarian," Devon snarled. Small, sooty tendrils of smoke were trickling out from between his yellow teeth, and his crimson eyes gleamed with the joy of the hunt. My own eyes narrowed. The Dragons had been baiting me for weeks, and my patience extends only so far.  
  
"What, Devon? Can't you find anyone *willing* to scrub those hard-to-reach places?" I let my lips curl up into a derisive smile, and the aforementioned tail lashed against the wall so violently that the walls trembled.  
  
"Listen to me you white-haired little pissant," Devon began, but a flash of light from the Heart cut his voice dead.  
  
"I have an idea," Lady Evelyn said, in a voice as deadly and sweet as belladonna wine, "why don't both of you pretend that you have some sort of manners, and listen to *me*?"  
  
Devon and I shared what I knew were identical expressions of frozen terror. In dancing the old measures of insult and power-play, we had _forgotten Evelyn was there_. We immediately fell to the floor, which in my case prompted a pained squeal from Krem. That's mistake number two, I thought, and forced the hysterical giggle back down my throat. She's going to kill me. She's really going to kill me. And I probably deserve it.  
  
After everyone who wasn't an all-powerful Keeper had spend a few moments in abject groveling, Evelyn said shortly, "Get up."  
  
We leapt to our feet, except for Krem. He sort of sidled upwards...a move that no one but an Imp could do. I'd begun to think that they had joints the rest of us couldn't imagine, _just for groveling_. "My Lady," Devon began, "This...*Warlock* is interfering in your express orders! In your presence! He must..."  
  
"Do shut up, Devon, there's a good boy." Devon's jaw snapped shut so fast that it made a small, foul breeze, but the outraged expression on his face went a long way towards filling the silence. I felt Evelyn's attention center on me once again, and the weight of it was enough to make me cringe. "Obviously I have been away too long."  
  
"Well, then. If a lesson is needed, then so shall it be done. You, Cambri, believe that this Krem," an unseen force reached down and hauled the Imp into the air. He hung there with an expression of ecstasy on his bulbous face. "You believe that he has untapped potential. I assume that you wish to teach him to read, and the Dark Gods alone only know what else?" I could only nod, my heart in my throat. "Well, then. I suppose it's a worthy experiment. Very well, he is under your care...for as long as it pleases me. I expect weekly reports on the Imp's progress, and I will borrow him as needed for my own experiments. This intrigues me.  
  
"And because you've brought this intriguing specimen to my attention, I will kindly refrain from turning you into a small red smear on the floor of this Chamber." Her voice was hard. "And let me assure you, Head Librarian, that is the *only* thing that is sparing your life right now. You have been insolent to those I have set above you and overstepped your bounds. Krem, you may return to Cambri's quarters. Unless I say otherwise, your principle duties are to aid the Head Librarian in his research."  
  
"Yes, oh Divine One!" Krem abased himself on the floor for a moment, then scurried out of the room. Devon looked outraged, and I prevented myself a small, triumphant smile. One smile too many.  
  
"As for *you*, Head Librarian," Lady Evelyn's voice opened a new wound on my forehead, "Devon will escort you to the Torture Chamber. You will amuse my new Mistress and any of her friends that she deems fit for a time. When I can bear the sound of your name, or the sight of your face, I'll call you back and see if you have absorbed the lesson." A low moan escaped my throat as Devon stepped smartly forward, and snagged the back of my robes with his teeth. My knees locked. Not again...not the Chamber...I could feel the blood slide down my nose, and the thought that it would soon be joined by so much more almost broke me, then and there.  
  
"Resist, Cambri," he hissed between his jaws, "*Please* give me a reason. Any reason at all."  
  
No, I thought. I won't give him the satisfaction. I won't leave Krem adrift in ignorance. I won't *fail*. When the Dragon tugged, I walked. It was a halting, mechanical walk, but my head was held high. Thus, I went to meet my fate.  
  
It was almost three days before I was released. 


	4. Disturbance

Evelyn  
  
Three days, I left him in the Mistresses' tender care. Three days, in which I was able to accomplish nothing of substance without his gaunt, pale face intruding on my thoughts. It didn't help, of course, that I was connected to all of my creatures on some level, even when they are being punished. Normally, the pain was an abstract sensation, something to be measured for its learning effect on the creature in question. However, in Cambri's case, the pain had become a buzz, strange and insectile. I finally gave up attempting to ignore it, and had him released and dragged into my presence once again.  
  
"Mistress..." he said hoarsely from his supine position before the Heart. I didn't bother to give permission for him to rise...it wasn't as if he could stand.  
  
"Cambri," I replied, keeping my voice distant. "I believe you have something to tell me?"  
  
"Y-yes, my lady." The ragged sound of his breathing echoed around the cold stone walls. This pleased me, so I improved the acoustics slightly, so that his own ears must have been drowned in it.   
  
"Well? I suggest you be quick about it. My time is valuable, after all."  
  
"I...must apologize." He swallowed. "I disobeyed those placed...above me, and in...doing so, I showed grave disrespect...to you, my Keeper."   
  
I considered the sentence, and eventually found it good. It didn't cover the entirety of the offense, but perhaps that was a little too much to be expected, under the circumstances. The important thing was that he was sincere, and now I could dismiss him from my mind. "Apology accepted, Head Librarian." I examined him; it would be a few days before he'd be ready to reassume his duties, more's the pity. "Prepare yourself. I will conduct you to your lair, where you will stay until you are in no danger of bleeding on the books." With that, I manifested my Hand to scoop him up, and place him into his lair.  
  
Once I'd watched him drop into an exhausted sleep, I turned gratefully back to my chapter on the secondary effects of Giant Spider venom on the nerves of soles of the human foot. Now, I thought with satisfaction, everything would return to normal.  
  
* * * *   
  
There is one thing that I've always done my utmost to combat within myself. That is the tendency of successful Keepers to feel that they can do no wrong. I acknowledge my strengths, mind you, but I've always been very good about admitting the rare occasions when I make a mistake. Thus, I feel compelled to disclose that I've rarely made a statement--even just to myself--which was more foolishly optimistic than my assessment of the Cambri situation.  
  
I found that I was unable to return to my solitary pursuits of research and writing. Throughout the endless subterranean nights, my mind wandered from the cold clarity of potions and anatomy diagrams to the Library and its warden. I had only to abandon my discipline for a moment, and I would find myself looking down at Cambri and listening to his attempts to teach the Imp to read. Although there was an element of scholarly fascination with the subject, it was not something that I'd normally have taken a personal interest in. And yet...I returned again and again.  
  
"Now, Krem," Cambri was saying when my attention drifted that way yet again, "let's try it from the top." The Imp swallowed, and looked down at the book as if it were an enemy trap he'd just stumbled across. Cambri nodded encouragingly, and tapped the sentence the Imp was to read.  
  
"In the tenth year of..."  
  
"Kondari's."  
  
"Kon...da..ree's riigan?" I winced, but Cambri just smiled.  
  
"That's 'reign', pronounced like 'rain'. Go on,"  
  
"In the tenth year of Kondari's...reign...there came a new...terror...from the frozen North." I started. Surely Cambri wasn't..."A g-great ladee of Darkness who slew the leegons of the Light. And her name was...Ev-e-lin...Evelyn!" Krem's eyes grew wide. "This is about the Lady! She's in a book!" He looked so astounded that I felt my mind try to stretch nonexistent muscles into a smile.  
  
Cambri laughed, it made him sound much younger than he looked. "She's in quite a few, actually. She's written more than that, as well. Even among Keepers, she has a reputation for brilliance." Some expression slid across his face then, a fraction too quickly for me to identify it. He reached out and tapped the Imp on the nose. "Once we've gotten you proficient with this, I'll let you borrow one of her earlier texts."  
  
"Read the Lady's words?" The Imp looked awestruck at the very prospect. I wondered why; the Imps were bound to me body and soul. I wouldn't have thought they'd even be able to comprehend a different link than that. Again, it would appear I was mistaken. Before I could muse on this in more detail, however, Krem asked a question that sharpened my interest once again. "Have you read the Lady's words?"  
  
"Oh, yes," Cambri replied with a distant look on his face. "I've read everything of hers. In fact, that's...well, nevermind. We're here to teach you to read, not explore old memories."  
  
"No," I said, for some reason extremely disappointed that I wouldn't learn more about the Librarian's past. It was only when Krem squeaked and dived to the floor that I realized that I'd somehow forgotten myself enough to vocalize. Damn, what in the Nine Hells was going on with me? Now that the mood was completely broken, however, I decided that I might as well indulge my curiosity. "No," I repeated, my voice stronger this time, "I'd actually like to hear the rest of that sentence, Head Librarian.  
  
Cambri stiffened, and craned his head toward the ceiling. All my creatures do this, even though they *know* that I can see from any angle I wish. He looked uncomfortable. "As you wish, Lady, although it is but a trifle. I was only going to say that it was the quality of your publications that made me seek out employment in your service." He shrugged. "No doubt you've heard the same from many others."  
  
I hadn't, actually. Normally, I didn't care why my minions joined me, as long as they did an excellent job. But, suddenly, I was curious. "I hear a great many things, true. What did you do before you joined me, Cambri?"  
  
"I..." he seemed at a loss. "Why do you want to know, my Lady?"   
  
"Are you questioning me, Cambri?"  
  
"No," he said quickly, "it's just a little unusual. Um." I decided right then that I enjoyed seeing him flustered. The blush brought out the unusual pink shade of his eyes, and made him look a little like a rabbit.   
  
"So...?" I prompted. "You did come from somewhere, I presume? Or did you just appear in the stacks one day, fully grown?"  
  
"No, no, of course not. But it's a very boring story." He glanced over at the Imp, who was waiting with held breath. I let that stand as my answer, as well, and finally he ran through his silver hair, and sighed. "All right, but I did warn you. I was born to a minor Lord in the world above. The Kingdom of Bonny Grove, to be more specific. I was born as you see me here," he gestured to indicate his lack of pigmentation, "and I was considered a monster. I probably would have been drowned, but that I was male and my mother died in the birthing. A monstrous heir is better than no heir at all.  
  
"As it was, however, I spent most of my time away from the other people in the keep, which meant the Library. I soon discovered a talent for magic within myself, and conceived of a plan to use a spell to turn myself...normal. The only spell that I found that seemed to have a chance of working required a sacrifice...a small, furry animal of the color that the caster wished to transfer to himself. It seemed a small enough price for acceptance, so I found one of my father's hunting dogs, and led it to an outbuilding with a piece of raw meat. I'd forgotten, in my fevered preparations, that my father was planning on a deer hunt that day. He went looking for his hound.  
  
"He arrived just as the spell reached the sacrifice stage, along with the Huntmaster, and several of the kennel boys. He," Cambri's voice took on the monotonous timbre of someone overcompensating for great emotion, "saw his hound, and me. He was always impulsive. I didn't even realize he'd crossed the circle until he had his hands around the dog's neck and I was chanting the killing line.  
  
"I broke the spell, but it was too late. Both my father and the dog lay on the ground, drained and lifeless, and all that energy dispersed into the air, useless. A total waste of lives, because I didn't finish the spell when I had a chance." That explained a fair amount, I thought. He'd fallen silent, and I thought about leaving him be, but now I was truly interested.  
  
"What happened, then?"  
  
"What? Oh," he shrugged, "They whipped me off the estate, and I took refuge with a bandit corps in the hills. They were brutal, and not very bright, but at the time I couldn't afford to be choosy. I took my share of their ill-gotten gains in books. One day, they killed another Warlock, and brought his collection back to me. One of the books was A Rumination Upon Arctic Dungeon Design." He smiled crookedly. "I left the next morning, looking for the writer of that book."  
  
'It wasn't one of my best."  
  
"No," he flashed a grin at the ceiling, "but it was the first bit of real sense I'd seen in my new life. Or, for that matter, my old life. It took me four years, but eventually I found one of your Portals, and was accepted."  
  
Somewhere, one of my other creatures began to petition for my attention. Judging by the fervent pitch, it was probably urgent. "I must go," I murmured into the dusty air of the Library. "Krem, you're doing quite well. I expect this to continue. Cambri..."  
  
"Yes, my Lady?"  
  
"I'm...almost finished with my newest book. Would you care to preview it before I send it on?"  
  
He stood and bowed deeply. "It would be an honor and a pleasure, my Lady Evelyn."  
  
"Then you shall have it." And then I left, before I could reflect too deeply on my strange behavior. 


	5. Tremors

Author's Note: First, thank you to everyone who reviewed, and special thanks to Vick330 for reviewing *every* chapter. :) For a while, that was all that kept me going! Second, no, Kagedtiger, this is *not* better than Dungeon Views in my not-remotely-humble opinion, but thanks for the compliment (and the blush that went along with it)! Finally, sorry to take so long for the next chapter. Mea maxima culpa.  
  
* * *  
Cambri  
  
I closed the last page of the book with a feeling of deep satisfaction. It was brilliant. I had expected it to be, but there was always that nagging fear that it wouldn't have measured up, and I would have been forced to decide whether to lie to my Keeper, or face her wrath. Now, thankfully, the decision was out of my hands. I could tell her with a clear conscience that the treatise would revolutionize the techniques used by Mistresses and any Keepers bright enough to adopt them.  
  
I rested my hand on the dragon-skin binding (not from one of the Twins, more's the pity), and closed my eyes. Was she here? I tried to feel for her presence in the air, but the chill of the library was as empty as it ever was. A small twinge of disappointment nibbled at me. I shook it away, uneasily. Why would I feel upset, even for just a second, that my Keeper wasn't hovering over my shoulder? No sane person wanted the undivided attention of their Lord or Lady; my own recent experiences should have told me that. And yet...  
  
"Librarian."  
  
I jumped, and tiny tongues of lightning crackled at my fingertips. The Dragon chuckled, the sulfur stench of his breath made me gag as I turned to face him. "That's *Head* Librarian," I snapped, more angry at myself for shying away like an Imp than at the Dragon's unconcealed mirth. "What is it?"  
  
"Feeling a bit...jumpy, Librarian?" The Dragon grinned. "Oh, sorry, *Head* Librarian."  
  
"Is there a purpose to this, wyrm, or did you call just to inquire about my health?"  
  
Atrius, I assumed it was Atrius, since Devlon had been avoiding me ever since that first wretched day of Lady Evelyn's return, narrowed his eyes into slits that glowed with some strong emotion like the forge fires of Hell. And I assure you, I know of what I speak. "Lady Evelyn wishes to speak to you this evening. In her *private* library."  
  
I froze, and Atrius chuckled again at the expression on my face. Very few individuals were ever commanded to the Lady's private sanctum; most often, those that were were destined for a glorious (but very final) end in the service of science. This, then, was why she had decided to allow me to read her book...she would no doubt value someone who could give educated commentary as the principles were applied. How could I ever have thought...it didn't matter what I had thought. Nothing mattered anymore.  
  
I turned away from my reptilian tormentor, and said with what dregs of pride that I could scrape together, "Thank you, Atrius. You may go." I dismissed him with an airy wave, the hand moving too fast for anyone to notice its shaking.  
  
Atrius snorted. For a moment, I thought he would stay long enough to get in one, last taunt, but he consented himself with just slapping his tail gleefully against the wall as he left. No one cared to associate too closely with the condemned, it was better just to write them out of existence. I realized that my hand was still on the front cover of Lady Evelyn's book. It caressed the leather idly, with a will of its own. I removed it, and carefully wrapped the book back in the crimson silk in which it had been delivered.  
  
At least, I thought as I tied the securing knot, Krem would be clear of any collateral damage. I'd sent him to gather the rare fungi that was the base for the magic-resistant ink called magestain. It'd be a couple of days before he would find enough to bring back. By then, it would be all over.  
  
Everything would be all over.  
  
My jaw set, I began setting my affairs in order.  
  
* * *  
  
I presented myself at the locked door of the Lady's private library promptly after dinner. I was dressed in my best robes, although I'd left the Head Librarian token back in my rooms. I didn't think it would be fair for my successor to have to clean...bits off of it before putting it on. I swallowed, though my mouth was dry and tasted faintly of bile, and rapped sharply on the door with my left hand. My right had a death grip on the Lady's tome, as if it were a talisman of comfort.  
  
It opened with a silken silence that didn't seem possible with the heavy iron hinges that bound the oak to the stone. "Enter," said a familiar voice that sent cold waves of fear down my spine. I stumbled across the threshold, and my hands and face went the still, glacial cold of shock.  
  
It was a Mistress. I didn't remember her name, but I remembered her ecstatic cries as she brought the whip down on my shoulders again and again. The door closed behind me. I was trapped. My eyes searched the room frantically for any means of escape. Which is when I noted the first of several peculiar things.  
  
The room was not made out as a torture chamber. Far from it, in fact. Aside from the bookshelves that dominated all four walls, the only furnishings were a lovely oak table of surfacer make, and two matching chairs. On the table was a bottle, but it wasn't acid, unless some perversity of my Keeper bade her to use expensive night-wine bottles to house her poisons. Two glasses huddled near the bottle, like Hell Hound pups leaning against their mother. And the Mistress was not in her typical leather harness, instead, her athletic form was covered in a more elaborate version of my own Warlock robes.  
  
"W-what's going on, here?" I stammered. As openings went, it was vastly inferior to 'How may I serve you?' or 'My life is yours', but at the moment, I was entirely incapable of thinking anything else. The stress of the last few hours, and the unexpected appearance of the thing I feared more than death itself, had reduced my intelligence to slightly below that of the average Bloodspore Mushroom.  
  
The Mistress stared at me, her black eyes impassive. "Head Librarian," she said, "have you lost your wits? Perhaps you've been associating with the Imps too much lately." She stalked toward my stunned form and took the silk package from my nerveless fingers. "At least you remembered to bring the book before your mind failed." At the table, she unwrapped the tome with long, clever fingers.  
  
This was Evelyn, I realized as she seated herself gracefully. The diction, the air of confidence and power, even the way her voice seemed to reach down into his soul, all were the same. 'Of course, Cambri,' I thought, 'what form do you *expect* her to take when she possesses a minion? A Reaper?' I felt foolish, relieved, and apprehensive all at once. I sank to one knee, hurriedly, and bowed my head. "My Lady...forgive my rudeness!"  
  
A sigh. "I suppose I must. Otherwise, I'd have to solicit opinions on my latest work from Krem. Now, come over here and sit down." I looked up, confused at the odd tone in her words. Some trick of the Mistress's voice, I was sure, had been responsible for the touch of...whatever it had been. I stood quickly, and sat down at empty seat at the table with little grace. A corner of her lips twitched. She gestured at the bottle. "Serve us."  
  
I nodded, and filled the glasses to the halfway mark with the potent liquor. I was pleased to note that my hands hardly shook. Apparently, I'd gone past shock, fear, and confusion to find some calm harbor in the lands beyond. After I poured, Evelyn raised her glass, and after the tentative touch of rims, sipped her drink while studying me through half-lidded eyes. I followed her example, but kept my own gaze firmly on neutral territory like the wood grain of the tabletop. What did my Keeper have in store for me?  
  
Apparently, it was talk. After a time of mutual silence, she began to fire questions at me about her treatise. Not just looking for generalities or opportunities for ego-stroking, her terse voice drew out everything I could remember thinking while reading the tome, and quite a few things that I hadn't realized that I'd thought. At first, I'd tried to hedge my opinions in praise, but it only took one cold, cutting rebuke to persuade me that, in this, honesty was the policy least likely to result in my demise.  
  
I wasn't sure how long the interrogation went on, or when exactly the tension drained out of it, and it became a discussion. The Lady's knowledge was immense, but I found to my surprise that I could keep up with her in many areas, and there were even a few times when the expression on the face that she wore revealed her pleased surprise at a rebuttal or counterpoint I'd made. I marked each on of the times, and without knowing why, held them close to my heart, like rare and precious treasures.  
  
As we were debating the pacifying techniques for Horned Reapers (or the lack thereof), I noticed that her glass was empty, and reached for the bottle of night-wine to refill it. To my surprise, it was empty. I blinked at it, then turned it over her glass anyway. One drop, like a bloody tear, slid out and splashed into the bottom of her glass. I looked at her, still holding the bottle. Now that I'd stopped talking, my thought was becoming less clear, obscured by a mist of alcohol.  
  
She smiled. "No matter," she said, and there was husky depth to her voice that hadn't been there a moment ago. The eyes of her host held a dark intent, as if some great decision been made, at last. Those eyes caught me as surely as her Hand ever had, and when her borrowed lips brushed against mine, warm and sweet, a part of me wasn't surprised at all.  
  
* * *  
  
Krem  
  
Got to get the mushrooms with the silver tops. Got to get two baskets full, then Krem goes back, and Master Cambri teaches Krem to write. Then Krem can serve the Lady better than any Imp, and Krem will be valued by the Lady and Master Cambri. And Krem will never be punished again. But first, must find the mushrooms with the silver tops.  
  
What? Light down the tunnel...not supposed to be any light down the tunnel. Tunnel closed, Krem remembers. From the Before Time, before Krem was made wrong. Krem will go see if it is Imps. Maybe, this time, Imps talk with Krem and Krem will be valued by Imps, and not be punished.  
  
Men! It is Men from the Above! Krem must tell the Lady! Surfacers are invading, and the Lady must be warned. Run!  
  
Krem is caught! Caught like a chicken in the pot! Bad Krem, failed again! Bad!  
  
"God above, this thing is ugly."  
  
"Don't let it go, Sir Feston. We don't want it warning its damned master, now do we?"  
  
Let Krem go! Krem must warn the Lady! Master Cambri, save Krem!  
  
"The way it's yelling, we'll have the whole dungeon on our heads. I haven't spent all this time finding an alternate route into this hellhole to lose it all on account of one caterwauling little demon."  
  
"So kill it, already. Or give it to the priests."  
  
Lady! 


End file.
